Hemingway said that for all good stories, only a small fraction of the issue is visible, like an iceberg, with the bulk of its real substance submerged beneath the surface. Such is the case with Park Ki-yong's truly excellent film Camel(s). Shot in digital black and white and transferred to 35mm, it tells the story of an isolated (one presumes) tryst between a middle-aged man and woman, in a tawdry seaside town (alas they never make it to the more idealized island they had planned on visiting). Details are deliberately scarce. We learn that both are married with middle-class jobs-he's an undertaker and she's a pharmacist-and that they met after the man filled a prescription for chronic headaches. Beyond this, they seem to have little history. The man is surprised when the woman knows his name (she recalls it from his insurance card) and it isn't until they're en route in his friend's borrowed car that the man learns the woman's name at all. Both principals give superbly understated performances, conveying the weariness, sorrow and neediness that are the apparent catalysts for their rendez-vous. Like camels, both the man and the woman seem to share a dromedary's capacity for suffering in silence (it's said that a camel's eyes are always wet). Most interesting in this film are the ways the lovers avoid real conversation-as if to forestall any potential entanglement-and the nuance with which Park Ki-yong depicts all the necessary but uncomfortable rituals that precede and supercede the couple's needy lovemaking. Ki-yong simplifies everything, yet portrays a startling complexity of submerged motive. Camel(s) is not for all tastes, but if one can endure this film's near-glacial pace, with long, static takes and minimal dialogue, the film makes for rewarding viewing, with a wealth of profundity and insight into the two camels of the title.